


Condoms and Awkwardness

by DarlaBlack



Series: Ficlets & Prompt Responses [8]
Category: The X-Files
Genre: Awkwardness, F/M, Resolved Sexual Tension, Season/Series 01, Season/Series 07
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-09
Updated: 2019-03-08
Packaged: 2019-11-14 04:44:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18045716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarlaBlack/pseuds/DarlaBlack
Summary: Early in their partnership, Scully catches Mulder buying condoms. Years later, she finds the box.





	1. Chapter 1

She comes for bread and milk: so normal she almost bores herself in retrospect—in comparison. She’s not seen him here before, so it is a surprise when she finds him in personal hygiene (tampons were an afterthought, a just-in-case because she felt crampy this morning and had nothing at work). He is caught-in-the-headlights surprised to see her, and the small box in his hand reveals why. Surprises around every corner, she thinks.

“Oh, ah…” he looks around, as if there may be some other reason bringing him to this isle but there are only pregnancy tests and pads and Vagisil. His face blooms red. “Ah,” he says. “Hi.”

Scully gnaws her bottom lip and tries not to enjoy his discomfort. He tries to hide the purple box, and she wonders why. It’s none of her business. He’s not a monk devoted to his chaste discipline. Still, she feels her eyes narrow and she wonders  _who_.

“Hi,” she says. 

“I’m, ah… well.” He clears his throat. She eyes the tampons to his left _,_ refuses to let awkwardness get the best of her, too. She reaches, almost touches his shoulder, and snags the box, drops it in her basket.

She smiles at him, but it is half a frown, and then turns back the way she came. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Mulder.”

“Yeah,” he says, and then, before she can excuse herself from this strange situation and her strange partner of less than a year who shops for condoms all the way in Georgetown, he surprises her again. “I just… I only had expired ones, and you never know.” He’s staring at his shoes, the least embarrassing things within 15 feet in all directions. “Better to be safe.”

Her tongue presses the inside of her cheek. “Right,” she says, remembering the awkwardness of Phoebe Green and wondering how often he really has need of all this safety. “Tomorrow,” she says with a little wave, and heads for the registers.

_So strange_ , she thinks, and finds herself smiling.


	2. Chapter 2

She’s fallen asleep on his couch for not the first time this week. The autopsy notes have dropped from her hands across her chest and lap, a blanket of gory paperwork to keep her (not quite) warm. When he notices, Mulder puts down his own notes and scoops hers up, straightens them, leaves them in a pile on the coffee table. They are still working on their transitions, the little movements and switches in behavior that signal the change from “work” to “us,” and he meant to do better tonight. He wanted to kiss her sweetly and invite her to watch TV, not to bore her to sleep with dead bodies.

He reaches out with one finger and rubs her kneecap. “Scully,” he says.

She blinks awake, eyes still lost somewhere else. “Mulder?”

“I’m sorry,” he says, and she looks confused. “Too much work,” he explains.

“Mmm,” she mumbles. She sits, rubs at her eyes, yawns. “I should go,” she says.

Sleepovers are new and still not for school nights, but he really did mean for tonight to be about them, not this case. “Stay,” he says. “Please?”

Scully frowns, standing and looking for her purse. “It’s Thursday.”

He catches her wrist and tugs her to him. He is eye-level with her ribs, so he leans forward and kisses her abdomen, just below her breasts. “Please,” he says.

She’s easily won over—she doesn’t  _want_  to go. Her arms come behind his neck and he feels her fingers soft in his hair.“Okay,” she says.

He throws away their empty takeout containers, washes up the handful of utensils, and listens to her opening drawers in his bedroom, changing, puttering around his bathroom. He hears her call out, something about an extra toothbrush, but then she appears a few moments later, makeup washed off, wearing only one of his t-shirts, which hangs to mid-thigh. She’s holding something. There’s a smile curling up one side of her mouth.

“What’s that?”

She holds it up for him to see, a little purple box marked  _Durex_ , still in its shrink wrap.

“Oh, Jesus, how old are those?”

She laughs, that silly guffaw that he loves so much. “About six years,” she says. “Don’t you remember? I saw you buy them.”

He can’t help it, his face turns red, even after all this time, even after they’ve seen each other naked about a dozen different ways, and then he laughs, too. “I was such an idiot.”

“You never even opened them.”

He nods, chewing on his bottom lip. “Yeah, well. I didn’t really  _need_  them.”

She sets the box on his counter, moves forward, invades his personal space, and he can smell the soap she used to scrub her face. “So why did you buy them?” She backs him against the cabinets, still smiling. He lowers his head so his nose brushes hers.

“Maybe I wanted to make you jealous,” he murmurs.

“Hmm,” she says, pressing her body against his. “Maybe you were having impure thoughts about your partner. Maybe you were thinking you’d like to work up the courage to make a move.”

He tugs at the hem of her shirt, pulls it up so he he can rest his hands over the cotton of her panties, squeeze her tighter to him. “Hey look,” he says “I did it.”

She smirks, goes up on tiptoes, and whispers into his mouth: “Took you long enough.”


End file.
